


The Best Audience-...

by Elliot



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Gen, mute!runner five, spoilers mission 7, zrs1 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 23:19:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11023689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elliot/pseuds/Elliot
Summary: Or: Never tell me to shut up.post-mission 7 Runner Five has nightmares and searches for a cure.





	The Best Audience-...

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, I thought I'd put some of my older stuff on here. I am indeed http://creation-of-boredom.tumblr.com/ and /http://runner-eli.tumblr.com/ come visit me! I actually would love some zombies run! rp on eli if any of you are interested!

There were nights -starting with a stormy Tuesday night a week prior- where I’d slip into the comms-shack and slit into the only other available chair; or down against a bare wall if that second chair had been occupied by either stacks of paper, another body or whatever else I deemed a reasonable explanation for the denial of comfort.

Sam had given me odd looks the first time I slipped down the wall wrapped in a blanket I had tugged from my own bed. But the runners needed him more and I kept perfectly quiet. How could I not? And so he turned back to his scanners, radars, and camera’s, and carefully instructed them of the dangers of that stormy Tuesday night.

– 

Thing is, you don’t realize how much something means to you until you don’t have it.

Sam’s voice was one of those things.

I hadn’t slept in days; my body was running on its bare reserves, and I wasn’t sure how long it would take until they’d throw me out. I was barely an asset to the township now, what with not being able to run down even a simple hallway. They hadn’t expected it of me, the running, they were happy to give me a week to get my bearings back after the New Canton Trap. And I didn’t want to create more suspicion than was absolutely necessary.

Maxine might have known. If her disapproving glances told me anything. And she was the one to slip me some extra food, or ask if I needed something. I flat-out refused, which might be the cause of the looks, but really… it was not the food, or lack there off, that had me in such a state.

It was the fact that I couldn’t seem to sleep. Or not peacefully. Nightmares would knock me out of the very few hours I did manage to slip away in a fitful sleep.

The brunt of the nightmares? The failing radio-communication. Time and time again. Not the zombies, or that it was dark, or the shots fired at me, or the fact that I was alone. That is, until the radio would fail and I’d truly be deserted of anything but rotten, walking corpses. The first night the nightmare had continued until I received my first bite. The nights that followed brought different scenario’s, but I ended up forcing myself awake as soon as the radio-contact died and left a terrifying silence.

 –

And then I figured out the solution. It was by accident really. Several runners had thought it a fun idea to find some firewood and now there was a cozy bonfire burning in the courtyard of the quad. It had been going on for quite some time now and people arranged little breaks in their schedules to grab a bite or chat up with others. Until Janine would shoo them away, saying they couldn’t abandon their responsibilities. But even she had had a fond smile on her lips the entire evening.

It was a wonderful distraction and since I wouldn’t be called upon for missions -nor would the other runners, seeing as it was evening- , I grabbed the chance to relish in the stories and friendly banter while huddled in that same blanket, leaning against a proper folding chair that Janine had miraculously produced from the shed.

Jack and Eugene were the masters of story telling, of course, and they had everybody amused for hours. There was something with a failed project and other college-adventures, and people were adding their own experiences to the wild mix of tales.

The laughing and listening must have wearied me down, because although I do remember Sam taking his turn, I don’t remember what he could have possibly spoken about. It must have been something wild and twistedly funny, and people must have thought he was just running his mouth like always. I only remember that people were relaxed, with lazy smiles and the soft glow of the fire, and that somewhere I had fallen asleep, head resting against the armrest of the folding chair. 

And I had slept well.

There were no nightmares and I felt something approaching energized when I finally woke up, 3 hours later; the bonfire only a bit of glowing charcoal, and the few people that were around were those taking a last drink before heading to bed after their night watch had ended.

Sam had gone too, but I knew I had found my remedy.

– 

And so I had made it a habit of taking long naps in Sam’s presence.

Listening silently to his voice. His endless drone of words that kept the radio-communication going, both in the real world and in my dreams; guiding me home.

In the end he must have realized the reason. 

I woke up when there was silence, blearily blinking my eyes and snuggling down deeper into the blanket. I captured the blurry image of Sam sitting reversed on his chair, watching with his arms crossed over the back of the chair, his chin resting on top. He noticed, smiled and came over, tugging the blanket in place. 

He surprised me when he moved to my left and slide down the wall as well, settling down beside me. And kept talking, smiling all the time, his words hushed and small, and best of all, soothing.

“ _The good thing about this is that I can repeat my stories thousands of times and you’ll never tell me to shut up, right five?”_


End file.
